Major, You're Alive!
by AlisraSkywall
Summary: I think we can all guess who was behind the door of the house in episode 13.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: I'm pretty sure we all know who stood behind that door to the house in episode 13.

"It is a pleasure to meet you."

Violet dropped into a deep curtsy. "If it is your wish, I will travel anywhere to meet you. Auto Memories Doll at your service,-"

She looked up and the world seemed to stop spinning.

Green eyes twinkled, a smile upon his lips, navy blue hair slicked back and short.

A beautiful smile spread across Violet's face. She dropped the corners of her dress and stood up, reflexively raising her mechanical hand to her forehead in a salute.

"Violet Evergarden."

For the person standing in front of her was none other than

DIETFRIED WHO CUT HIS HAIR HA HA

No, I'm not that mean.

For the person standing before her was none other than her very own Major Gilbert Bougainvillea.

"Major," she breathed. "You're alive."

"I am alive, Violet. Are you an Auto Memories Doll, now? Wonderful, you've grown into your name."

A wicked smile shot across his handsome features. "For even the most beautiful flowers have to wilt sometime."

A knife, glistening with blood-

Violet jolted awake to find no Major Gilbert and tears everywhere, crisscrossing her face and staining the pristine sheets of her bed.


	2. Chapter 2

I promised I would update, didn't I? Check out my other fic, Sincere Smiles.

Violet stumbled to work the next day. Not walked, not ran, but stumbled.

Cattleya immediately noticed something was wrong but didn't say anything. No.

Violet had tear tracks on her face as she shakingly typed addresses. As she pulled the paper out, she stained the paper with drops of salty liquid.

Cattleya gently pried the addressed from Violet's fingers (heavens, that girl was strong) and sent her off to her room to rest. She glanced at her retreating back as she set to retyping them. For maybe half an hour, everything was peaceful. Then-

THUD!

Iris screamed and jumped to her feet, effectively throwing meticulously organized letters everywhere. Erica groaned in the background.

Benedict frowned. "It came from Vi's room."

And that's when everyone panicked.

There was a literal stampede to get to Violet's room. Benedict finally kicked the locked door open and they hurried inside.

The limp, unconcious body of Violet Evergarden was draped across the floor, her belongings everywhere, the emerald brooch shimmering beside her. Evidently it had gotten knocked off.

Iris and Erica rushed to help her while Benedict started looking around. Cattleya tied the brooch back onto the body and they glared into the sunshine to see if anyone was running away.

No one.

But there was someone running to them.

He was a speck, but his braid flapped in the morning breeze.

Erica drew back and voiced their thoughts.

"Dietfried Bougainvillea."

"What is _he_ doing here?"

Cattleya hissed. He had called poor Violet a monster and used her as a war tool.

"Most likely, he's here for Violet."

They whipped around. The President stood there, looking wary.

"His mother is on her deathbed. He must write a will soon, as the only surviving Bougainvillea brother. He likely wants to consult with Violet."

"Then we must wake her up!"

Cattleya rushed to Violet's side.

"Violet? Violet-honey, it's me, Cattleya! Oh, you have got to wake up! There's someone here to see you-!'

"Exactly what is going on here?"

Cattleya froze at the sound of his voice. She slowly turned her head.

Dietfried Bougainvillea stood in the doorway, looking livid.

"I came to talk with Violet Evergarden about writing my will, and what do I find? An empty office and workspace. So I come to Violet's room, intending to knock until she woke up, and what do I find? Her passed out on the floor, her co-workers gathered around her and someone uselessly staring out the window and admiring the pretty view."

Erica flushed. She had been looking for anyone else, but Leiden in the morning was so beautiful...

"I want to leave Violet Evergarden all of my brother's possesions."


	3. An Update On My Life

Hello!

No, unfortunately I haven't died.

I understand I haven't touched any of my stories for a strange amount of time. It's not that I don't have any motivation, it's just that I'll be taking a potentially very long hiatus to write conpletely on Archive of Our Own.

I don't understand why, but I think it's because I find it a lot easier to write on that site. Ideas flow from my mind easier, and to be honest, I've been getting more positive support.

Because I don't choose to talk about my mental health a lot, people often don't know the whole story, and I figured it was about time I told some actual human beings.

I know some people receive help abd support because they pour out their feelings through their work, and while I do love angst, I don't write it full-time.

I prefer to bottle emotions, not let then out.

PMs and DMs are private, but people have said some hurtful things about my work, and I want to remind them that if you don't like it, it's your fault, not mine, and if you hate it so much don't read it!

There is something called Preferred Personal Writing Style, you know. My opinions and how I choose to write shouldn't affect you to the point of calling my work useless trash.

Even if I were as bad at writing as you say, which I could be and maybe I'm just not seeing it, I can still be a great person, even if I'm not the best in the world at writing.

I don't know how you tracked down my Ao3 account, perhaps I told you in a story and forgot, but please don't leave negative comments. It doesn't feel very good.

It feels even worse when you get a bookmark and are excited only to find out the Additional Notes section says ONLY BOOKMARKED BECAUSE I WANTED TO SHOW MY FRIENDS THAT STORIES THIS BAD DO EXIST AFTER ALL.

Things like this are what causes depression.

I have insomnia, and I used to be able to relax because I felt happy that people were giving me such awesome support. Now that's not really happening and even though it's gotten better, lack of sleep is still looming behind me.

And I want to say to user AnonymousForPrivateReasons, what you think about me doesn't matter.

You want me to be more open about my life? Fine. I'll be more open.

I'm a fifteen year old kid with depression, anxiety and PTSD, only recently recovering from insomnia. I live under a constant pressure from so-called "Parents" to be perfect and just stop my mental health problems. I have friends, but I can't trust them with any secrets because oh I so want to, but I don't know whether they'll turn on me and stab me in the back or not.

So, all you internet warriors, don't throw away your shot to actually be a good person. After all, you're just like your comments: young, scrappy abd hungry for drama.

Shoutout to whoever caught the reference.

If you want to check me out, NOT bring me down any further, my Ao3 account name is ninehundredthousandfinalwords and my Wattpad is superchrisevans.

My Instagram is 900000wordslefttosay. NOT ninehundredthousandfinalwords. Someone already took that name.

A pat on the back to anyone who goes through what I'm going through, and to those who hate me for being me, well, if you feel like joining the fight against depression anytime soon, I'm willing to wait for it. *wink*

Bye!

Love,

Lizzy


End file.
